Inky Lips
by Igneous Pride
Summary: Hermione Granger never thought that Draco Malfoy could affect her like this. It was all so bloody frustrating. M for a reason, the reason being language and lemons. Co written by the wonderfully talented Straight Lesbian. Review if you want more.
1. Chapter 1

PLOT!

"Wonny!"

A curvy blonde bundle of irritation flew past an irate Hermione Granger's left elbow and threw itself onto a rather surprised and red-faced Ron Weasley.

Closing her heavy Ancient Runes textbook with an audible bang, she sighed as it did not affect the seemingly oblivious pair attempting to devour each other's faces.

Nodding to a bemused Harry Potter, she stood up and swept out of the cozy common room, heading as always for the Library.

She breathed a sigh of relief the minute she stepped into the calm silence that was the Hogwarts Library. The familiar scent of old books welcomed her like an old friend, and she immediately felt better than she had all evening.

She dropped her worn satchel at her favourite desk, and began perusing the dusty shelves.

_Damgerously Advanced Charms...How to Make a Baby (Dragon)...The True Biography of the Knights of Ni... Special Feelings and What To Do With Them... The Hairy Book of Hair... The Cutting Book of Blades and Other Assorted Sharp Objects... Twilight..._

Hermione rolled her eyes, and quickly moved on to another section of shelving.

_Amazonians in Ancient Runes... Vampires to Vampyres: A Compedium... Discworld: The Encyclopedia... Salazer and Godric: The True Story_

Hermione's eye caught the last title among the dusty tomes. As she reach out to take the book, her hand knocked into another, paler hand. Startled, she drew her hand away and looked to her left. There, without any of his usual cronies, stood none other than Draco Malfoy, Prince of Slytherin.

"Malfoy!" she cried, shocked. She glanced between him and the fateful book, and back again.

"Granger," he sneered, taking down the book before she could regain her wits.

"Interesting choice of reading material," she said, nodding towards the book in his grasp. The boy's cheeks turned a light shade of pink, but otherwise he maintained his cool demeanor.

"I could say the same to you," he replied archly. Before she could respond, he turned around and swept away, leaving Hermione standing there with a puzzled expression, and a tingling hand.

"But y'see," continued Ron through a mouthful of scrambled eggs and toast," a sausage comes in a neat, easily accessible tube form. It's clearly the superior choice of breakfast meat."

"Au contraire!" cried Harry, spewing crumbs across the wooden table," bacon is... ehm..." He looked beseechingly at Hermione, but she just rolled her eyes. Hermione was actually quite impressed by Ron's speech on the matter, and he had clearly given it a lot of thought.

"Bacon is sexy. Yeah." said Harry with a bite of his buttery toast that reeked of finality. Ron had no comeback, and merely resorted to sticking out his tongue.

Before Hermione could begin to wallow in how low her conversation had sunk, she thought back to the previous night in the Library. It was, she realized with a start, the first time she and Draco Malfoy had not been overtly mean to each other. She thought back to the title of the book, that had caught both their eyes, feeling confused. It grated against everything she knew about Malfoy for him to take that book.

Against her better judgement, her eyes were drawn to the Slytherin table searching for the familiar white-blonde head. When she found it, she felt a jolt of adrenaline as a pair of steely grey eyes were already trained upon her.

She ducked her head, and stared at her bacon and sausages. Why was Malfoy staring at her? ...Why did she care?

"Harry!" she muttered out of the side of her mouth. Harry paused, fork loaded with mashed potato and poised to fire, and glanced at her.

"Yeah?" However, he was suddenly distracted by the lump of scrambled eggs that landed with a splat on his cheek, spattering his glasses with eggy mush.

"Ron! You wanker!" he thundered, standing up and proceeding to dump the jug of orange juice over the shocked ginger's head.

Extremely annoyed, Hermione stood up with a huff and flounced out of the Great Hall just before it erupted into a rather messy food fight, that would land both Ron and Harry in a week's worth detention. As she turned the corner outside the Hall's door, she heard Snape bellowing for order.

Grumbling to herself about her two idiotic (yet lovable) friends. She was so immersed in her self-pity that she didn't notice a tall, blonde figure reclining against the stone wall of the corrider.

"Granger." called an all-too familiar voice. The baritone of Draco Malfoy's voice echoed down the hall as Hermione realized they were both completely alone together.

"Malfoy," she replied warily, looking around for a route of escape, wishing to avoid the usual round of insults.

"Potter and the Weasle are both neolithic trolls," he drawled, watching her carefully for a reaction. A slight smirk graced his lips. " I can't understand, with my admittedly sizable intellect, why you choose to be acquainted with them."

Ignoring that she had been thinking the first statement not moments ago, she glared at him.

"'Admittedly sizable intellect'? Admitted by whom, may I ask?" She was irked further as he chuckled, a low dangerous sound. Weary of his games, she made a noise of frustration and made to walk away. However, she was stopped by a pale arm that appeared as if from nowhere. Ignoring her pounding heart, she looked up at the suddenly very close Malfoy.

He looked down at the flushed girl, still smirking slightly. They stood there for a long moment, her confused, him inscrutiable.

"You have ink on your lip, Granger." he said softly, and he reached up with his free hand and brushed Hermione's top lip with the pad of his thumb. She trembled slightly, and licked her suddenly dry lips, still staring up at the taller boy. He moved his gaze from hers to follow the path of her tongue. Another long moment passed between them.

With seeming reluctance, he pulled away, and Hermione broke from her trance. She took a shaky step back, and with one last look she stuttered "Thank you," before fleeing down the deserted corridor. She could feel his gaze on her for the entire length of the hall.

Review if you want to read more, because we're petty like that.

Written by Igneous Pride and the Straight Lesbian, who are both rediscovering the marvels of Harry Potter, and the awesomeness that is Dramione.

Isnt Draco damn sexy? And aren't Harry and Ron just so darn cute?


	2. Chapter 2

PLOT!

Hello, presumably ladies (In fairness, how many guys are on this?) Thanks for the reviews. No, really. I know I sound insincere, but, really I mean it. But we want more. Please.

So yeah, Chapter 2, and we'll be moving this story (along with several others) to our NEW JOINT PAGE! Who's excited?

We're the Hypothetical Whores. So look us up.

Hermione gagged, as Lavender giggled shrilly, and fed Ron Weasley yet another heart shaped truffle. Harry followed suit, rolling his eyes as Ron then proceeded to lick Lavender's finger's sickeningly. Lavender squealed, and drew Ron's red face down for a ridiculously sloppy kiss, with all the usual slurply noises.

Deciding she had had enough of watching the soft core porn, which was escalating embarrasingly in front of her, she nodded at Harry Potter, and gestured that she was leaving. He shot her a look of utter betrayal as she practically sprinted out the door and left her friend standing there with not so subtly humping couple. She heard soft moans of "Won-Won" as she exited.

Unsure of her destination, now that she had successfully escaped, she meandered down Main Street, her thoughts invariably returning to that subject which she had desperatly hoped to avoid.

Draco Malfoy.

It had been a week since their brief encounter in the corridor, and in that time, Hermione Granger had puzzled over the incident. He had been, she decided there was no other word for it, nice. Well, as nice as Draco Malfoy could get (without possibly melting). Not once had he called her a Mudblood, which was a first. True he had called Harry and Ron idiots, but he had implied that they were inferior to her. Which meant he thought she was smart. Or not. Merlin's balls it was so frustrating.

Lost in her thoughts, Hermione meandered through the snowy streets of Hogsmeade, before finding herself in the ruddy warmth of the Three Broomsticks' doorway. Deciding to ponder further over a fortifying glass of butterbeer, she weaved her way through the boisterous crowd to a secluded table near the back of the inn.

Madam Rosmerta popped up not a second later with a cheery, lipsticky smile.

"What'll it be, dear?"

"Just a butterbeer, thanks." said the slightly less bosomy brunette. And by slightly less, we mean... well... a lot. A very great deal less.

While waiting for her non-alcoholic alcohic beverage to arrive, Hermione began tracing the grain of the table morosely. She just couldn't figure Malfoy out.

"If this is Potter's or the Weasel's chair, send them a gift basket for me, will you?" drawled a cold, smooth voice. Hermione's bushy head shot up to see the subject of her thoughts standing over her.

Without waiting for a reply, Draco Malfoy sat down gracefully in the unoccupied side of the booth. Before an awkward silence could ensue and fester, Madame Rosmerta popped up once again in all her glittery bosomy goodness.

"Here you go, luvvie." she chirped, seemingly oblivious to the tension that had emerged at the table. She glanced over at Draco, then glanced again, lingering this time on his casually suave appearance, and tousled blonde hair.

"Anything I can get for you?" she practically purred. Hermione snorted quietly to herself, causing the object of Rosmerta's probable sexual fantasies to glance at her in surprise, then smirk.

"Gin and tonic, Rosmerta," he said eloquently, and the barmaid bosomed off, sparing an obvious longing look back at the Slytherin.

And so, the awkward silence ensued.

"Is there something you wanted, Malfoy?" Hermione asked cautiously.

Malfoy ignored her question, but proceeded with one of his own.

"Why are you in Gryffindor?" The abrupt bluntness of the question threw Hermione for a moment, before she collected herself.

"Well, Malfoy, there was this special ceremony in First Year where we all sat on a stool-"

"As much I'd love to hear the end of that surely revolutionary, and illuminating, sentence, just answer the damn question Granger. You do enough of it at school, I'm sure you're well used to it." She studied him for a moment. He was gazing at her evenly.

"Why do you ask, Malfoy?" she queried. He remained silent and continued staring at her. Not knowing quite why, she answered him.

"The Sorting Hat wanted to put me in Ravenclaw... but it decided to put me in Gryffindor instead. End of story."

Malfoy seemed unsatisfied.

"Did you want to be in Ravenclaw?" She gaped at him. Malfoy wanted to know _how she felt?_

Again, Rosmerta conveniently interrupted, eyeing up the blonde, underage boy conspicuously. Hermione rolled her eyes. This was worse than watching Lavender and _Won-Won_ exchange fluids. And ew, mental images.

Before she could scar herself mentally, and cost her parents thousands in psychiatric bills, Rosmerta put Malfoy's gin and tonic on the table with a flourish. She was sure to lean over more than necessary as she did. Hermione was unsure why this bothered her so much.

After once more bosoming off to attend to her other patrons, Draco resumed his staring at Hermione. His long, pale finger traced the rim of the sweating tumbler.

"Well?" he pressed her. She was saved the necessity of answering by a rather loud curse to her right.

"There you are Hermione, Merlin's balls, it was turning into a cheap videoshoot for Playboy in there. _Honeydukes; Get Me Some Sugar_..." he trailed off as he finally noticed whom she was sitting with. His sparkling green eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Malfoy." he snarled.

"Potter."

Hermione, seeing the likely outcome of this confrontation, quickly stood up and took her friend by the arm.

"C'mon Harry, I need to go to the Post Office." She steered him away from his foe, but glanced back at her former companion. Brown eyes met silver. Just as she reached the door of the noisy pub, Draco Malfoy winked devilishly at her. Her eyes widened, but by then she and Harry were outside in the gentle snow. She was surprised to find herself smiling. She shook her head bemusedly, and followed her irate friend down the busy street.

"What did that prick want? I swear, if he so much as touched you..." he trailed off, muttering darkly. Shooting her a look, he asked, "Well? What did he say?"

"Um, nothing much," Hermione felt the urge to hide whatever had transpired between the two previously. If anything had happened. She was still as perplexed about their interactions as she had been before their encounter in the bar.

"Hermione, I may be thick, but I'm not dumb... Or something to that effect. No way would Malfoy voluntarily sit next to you and not say anything. Unless he was, you know, dead. But then that begs the question whether the dead have the power to do _anything _voluntarily... What were we talking about? Oh shit, here come _Lavvy_ and _Won-Won_," Harry rambled on. Hermione realized she was more upset about Rosmerta's overt flirting than she was about Ron and Lavender's public displays of affection. She also refused to think about why that was.

Once again review if you want more, and this story will be moved to our joint account soon.

Expect lots of silly Ron/Harry dialogue. Its Guy Love! Theres nothing gay about it.


	3. Chapter 3

PLOT!

Things began to escalate in Potions after the Christmas break. Due to an unfortunate incident involving Neville Longbottom, a pewter cauldron, and the juice of a flobberworm, Theodore Nott had been sent to the hospital wing with sores in... places.

As such, one Draco Malfoy was left without a partner. And who just so happened to be also partner-less? Seeing as Harry, Ron and Hermione were in actual fact, three people, Snape took one sneering look at them and gestured condescendingly at the bushy-haired girl to partner up with the blonde Slytherin.

Gathering up her things and muttering darkly all the while, Hermione Granger took her seat next to the said Slytherin. She plonked her things on the worn, burnt counter and sat down without looking at him once. The lesson resumed itself, they were to make a Confusion and Beffudlement Draught. The irony was not lost on Hermione.

Setting to work, she succeeded in not looking at Malfoy more than was strictly necessary. As always, he seemed to find this faintly amusing. He smirked at the doxy eggs he was pounding with a mortar and pestle, and glanced up at Hermione out of the corner of his eye occasionally.

After a half hour of chopping ingredients and intense awkward silences, the Potions classroom was full of steam and vapours. Hermione's hair was a sight to behold. She was flushed, not just from the steaming cauldron, but also from the increasingly smouldering looks she received every now and then from her partner.

Finally, as she was peering into the cauldron to check that the potion was indeed a mustard yellow colour, and not like Neville's indigo treacle, she felt a sudden presence at her back.

"Well," murmured a seductive voice in her ear," that went well."

Draco Malfoy was pressed flush against Hermione's back, and his head was bent down slightly to accomodate her smaller stature as he whispered deliciously to her.

"Indeed," Hermione said, trying her damnedest not to stutter. She stared at the gently bubbling potion, refusing to move a muscle. All of a sudden, Draco's hand reached out, brushing against Hermione's arm in the process, and took the metal spoon from her grip. Scooping up some of the potion, he held it up to her lips.

"Care to try some?" he said teasingly. Not appearing weak and childish was top of Hermione's priorities at that moment, besides not losing herself completely and throwing herself on the statuesque boy behind her. So, with a defiant tilt of her chin, she opened her mouth, and took a sip of the potion, but didn't swallow it. Imagine losing her poise while flush against the boy of her (wet) dreams. It didn't bear thinking about.

She felt Draco recoil slightly.

"Seriously?" he asked, nonplussed, "I was joking, you stupid Gryffindor. Merlin, you probably have no idea where you are, who I am or _what_ the fuck is going on right now. Shit." he seemed genuinely upset, which gave Hermione a sudden bravado, and a flush of pleasure.

She spat out the potion, which tasted of bananas and rusty nails, and grinned at the panicked Slytherin.

"You're just so adorable when you're worried," she fluttered mockingly, (but meaning it on the inside). Draco's eyes narrowed.

"See, and there I thought I had the answer to my question." Hermione stared at him blankly.

"It would have been so typically Gryffindor for you to drink that potion... but that stunt you pulled just now..." he paused, a slow sexy smile lighting his face," that was _so_ Slytherin of you."

The smile drained from her face, to be replaced by a scowl. Before she could reply with an appropriate amount of scathe, the bell rang, signalling the end of class. Draco swept past her and scooped up a vial of their potion to give to Snape. Hermione grabbed her things and made to rush out of the classroom, but a strong hand caught her upper arm as she reached the heavy door.

Looking back over her shoulder, she met Draco Malfoy's eyes angrily.

"I meant that as a compliment, Granger." he said sincerely, then let her go and strode down the crowded corridor.

Feeling utterly perplexed, she caught up to her two best friends, who were discussing somehting completely irrelevant animatedly.

"-and marmalade is such a pleasant orangey colour. It brightens up the breakfast table." said the ginger Ron Weasley.

"Stawberry jam is by far the better condiment!" Harry replied archly. Hermione wondered, in her befuddled state of mind, why Ron and Harry's grammar and vocabulary improved so dramatically when talking about food.

"But marmalade is so versatile! You can spread it on toast, bread, crackers, cheese, girls..." he trailed off dreamily before regaining his train of thought. "And, it's made of oranges, which are widely regarded as the best kind of fruit, not just of the citrus family."

Harry paused for a moment, then sighed.

"Strawberry jam is sexy." Then he ran on down the corrider and into the Transfiguration classroom before Ron could either reply or smack him upside the head.

"Harry runs like a girl." he contented himself with, looking at Hermione grumpily.

She nodded distractedly.

"When exactly have you put marmalade on girls, Ronald?"

"Uummm..." Ron pretended to begin to answer before sprinting down the corridor and following Harry through the door to the Transfiguration classroom, before Hermione could either reply or smack him upside the head.

"Boys..." she smiled, then blushed as she thought of a very different kind of boy, a certain tall, blonde, cold and ridiculously good-looking boy.

"Oh bollocks." she muttered to herself. How the bloody troll-buggering fuck did this happen?

A/N: Hiiiii :) we just have to wait one more day before this story is an official Hypothetical Whore's piece! Who's excited?

Review if you want HOT CLASSROOM SEX!

Yeah. We're not above that level. WE HAVE NO LEVEL!

So, yeah. review, bitches. 3


	4. Alert

Hello my freaky darlings!

This is not a real chapter, sorry if you thought it was, Im just letting you know that the story has been moved from my page to our joint one, along with a few other oneshots we did a few months ago. We're the Hypothetical Whores now, so read and enjoy.

And also a huge thanks to all our reviewers, and people who've subscribed or added us to their alerts. Cyber hugs for all.

We less than three you all

The Hyothetical Whores


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